


Ulterior Motives

by angeloscastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeloscastiel/pseuds/angeloscastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel is laid up in bed with the flu, Sam begins to suspect his excessive suffering has less to do with being sick and more with wanting Dean to look after him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ulterior Motives

Sam Winchester knows, better than most, that Castiel is one tough motherfucker.

He remembers finding the angel on the side of the road, bleeding out of his gut, and how he barely even winced when he and Dean dragged him into the backseat of the Impala and took him back to the bunker. He remembers how Cas hid any sign of his pain until after Dean left the room, even though it was clearly severe. He remembers all the times Cas has been wounded in one battle or another and has just kept fighting, even when the damage has been done by an angel blade and would hurt as much as it would hurt a human.

Which is why he’s somewhat bemused by Cas at the moment, laid up in bed with the flu for the third day in a row while Dean keeps a steady stream of tissues, hot lemon drinks, paracetemol, tomato rice soup and the odd whiskey going into his room. Sam’s poked his head in on Cas a few times, just a quick “Hey Cas, how you going?” and get nothing more than a long groan in response, occasionally a “Sam. I think I’m dying.”

Sam is unimpressed with Castiel’s theatrics, and he’s not alone. Kevin sits at the table, slumped over his morning coffee, and mutters that he’s been far worse off than Cas recently and the most Dean ever got him was a burger, and the two of them compare their sufferings over the trials and cast the occasional judgemental glare at Cas’s closed door. Yeah, the guy lost his grace, but Sam knows this strain of flu isn’t that bad because he had it before Cas and he was still up every day, helping Kevin prepare to resit his exams while Dean plonked hot drinks in front of him and called him a nerd.

Kevin’s ensconced in the library at the back of the bunker, so Sam takes his opportunity to intercept Dean on the way to Cas’s room.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time in Cas’s room,” he begins.

“Guy’s sick, Sam.”

“Yeah. How sick is he, exactly?”

“You’ve seen him, he’s miserable.”

“Dean, he has the same flu I had last week. I wasn’t that bad.”

“Yeah, but – he’s an angel, Sam. _Was_. He’s not used to this human flu crap.”

“He was _stabbed_ last time he was here, and he didn’t spend three days in bed. He’s got the _flu.”_

“You want me to just leave him in there feeling sorry for himself?”

“You can look after him all you want. I’m just wondering why this seems to have hit him so hard, you know?”

“He’s never been sick before. Not human sick. I’m not surprised he’s having a hard time.”

“Yeah, but he’s tough.”

“What, you reckon he’s _faking?”_

“Not _faking,_ just…exaggerating, maybe?”

“Why would he _exaggerate_ the flu?”

“I dunno.” Sam decides it’s time to bite the bullet. “Maybe he likes you looking after him.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying—”

“That’s the gayest thing you’ve ever said.” Dean points a finger at Sam. “And you’ve said some gay stuff.”

 “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“Shut up, Shakespeare,” Dean scowls.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Dean. Can’t you just admit it?”

“Admit what?’

“That you’re in love with the guy.”

“I take it back. _That’s_ the gayest thing you’ve ever said.”

“It’s true though,” Sam presses. “I know you, Dean—”

“No way. We are not having a “ _broment_ ” about this. And so what if Cas likes being looked after? Guy’s done a lot for us, y’know? He deserves a break.”

Dean disappears into Cas’s room, and Sam lets out an exasperated sigh. At least he didn’t _deny_ he was in love with Cas, but by this point it was so blindingly obvious it would be like Sam denying he was tall.

 

* * *

 

“Sammy.”

Sam grunts in response, squinting to see the silhouette of his brother in the doorway of his room.

“You awake?”

“I am now. Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean returns. “You might have been right. Before.”

“About you and Cas?” Sam’s fully awake now, pulling himself into a sitting position.

“I watched him _sleep,_ man.”

Sam snorts.

“This isn’t funny, Sam.”

“Sorry,” Sam says somberly. “So, you gonna tell him?”

“Are you kidding? He’s an _angel,_ Sammy.”

“So?”

Dean huffs exasperatedly. “The only reason he’s still here is ’cos he doesn’t have his wings anymore to fly away. If he did, he’d be God knows where right now ignoring my prayers like he always does. I told him I need him, man. So many times.”

Sam’s eyes widen in realisation. “Maybe this is his way of saying he needs you too.”

“What is?”

“This whole – _flu_ thing. Cos – cos he thinks being _needed_ is just being useful, right? Because he takes everything literally? So you tell him you need him and he thinks that he has to _help_ you, so he does what he thinks will _help_ you, and he thinks the only way to reciprocate is to _show_ you that he needs your help too—”

“You’re reading too much into this.”

“No I’m not!” Sam insists, and he actually leaps out of bed. “He’s not good with words, right, and he learns all his social cues from _you_ and you never talk about your feelings, so he thinks humans never do, and you’re telling him you _need_ him and he interprets that functionally, you know? And he thinks that all human behaviour is inherently complex and—”

“All right,” Dean holds his hands up in surrender. “Don’t write me an essay. I’ll go talk to him.”

He pauses in the doorway. “And if you’re wrong about this, you will regret it. That’s a promise.”

 

* * *

 

“I see Cas is better,” Sam says conversationally two mornings later as he joins Dean in the kitchen.

“Yup.”

“And you’re spending just as much time in his room as you did before.”

“Yup.” Dean pours two cups of coffee and starts heading for Cas’s room. “Oh – and I’ll buy you an iPad if you promise to never ask the questions you’re about to ask.”


End file.
